Sweet Scented Memories
by articcat621
Summary: Oliver surprises Hermione with an anniversary gift that helps them reminisce over some of their favourite moments.


A/N: This was originally written for the HP Drizzle Fest 2015 on LJ. Many thanks to krazyredhead0317 for being my super helpful beta. I hope everyone enjoys this piece of fluffiness.

Warnings: Language, Suggestive Sexual Themes

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 _Sweet Scented Memories_

"Happy anniversary, love," Oliver said, startling Hermione whom had been so focused on braiding her hair that she didn't hear him come in.

Hermione turned around, a loving expression on her face when she saw Oliver holding a bouquet of flowers. "Harry anniversary, Oliver," she replied, standing. She crossed the room, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed her body against his. "I love you."

"And I love you," Oliver replied. "I got you something."

Smiling, Hermione stared into the eyes of her husband. They had been married for a year now, having reconnected while rebuilding Hogwarts. "Oliver, you didn't need to get me anything."

"I wanted to," he replied with a shrug. He took her hand and led her towards their bed. They both sat on the edge as he pulled something from his pocket and unshrunk it. "Here you are."

Hermione opened the box, careful not to tear any of the beautiful purple wrapping paper. Inside was a strange looking machine. "What is it?"

"The twins have been working on it. It's a scent producing machine. You simply need to hold your wand to it and concentrate on a scent. The machine will replicate what you're thinking after you do the charmwork to sync with your thoughts with it. The entire room will smell like whatever scent you thought of."

"Really?" Hermione asked, looking the small device over. "Is it safe?" More than once, Fred and George tried to pawn off untested products.

"It is. Their flat smells like the Burrow. Fred showed me how to use it." Oliver smiled. "Here, let's do the charms to sync our thoughts." Oliver slowly and carefully showed Hermione how to link her thoughts to machine by touching it with the tip of her wand.

Hermione was impressed by the spellwork. It seemed that Fred and George had put a lot of effort into the small machine. "Now what?" she asked when they finished setting the product up.

"You try," Oliver encouraged her. "Put your wand tip to the machine and concentrate on a scent."

Pressing her wand to the machine, she closed her eyes and thought of a scent. Moments later, the sweet smell of flowers in the spring filled her nose. She let out a shout of surprise.

Oliver beamed, sniffing the air. "Flowers, that's lovely."

Hermione smiled happily. "Our first date was in the spring. You took me for a picnic. I remember sitting there on the blanket with you, the scent of springtime flowers in the air."

Oliver laugh. "And I couldn't stop sneezing from all the pollen. I remember that." He lovingly took her hand and leant forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Shall I give it a go?" he asked, holding up his wand.

Hermione nodded, curious as to what scent Oliver would think of. She held her breath as she waited. A sigh escaped her lips as the familiar smell before the rain filled the room. "Oliver," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

Oliver smiled at her. "You remember this, don't you? We were at the Muggle park near your parent's home when I got down on my knee and proposed."

She laughed as she recalled the memory. "I said yes, so you stood and put the ring on my finger. The moment we began to kiss, it started to downpour out of nowhere." Hermione laughed. "We were soaked."

"We were," Oliver agreed. "But it was wonderful."

"I love you," Hermione repeated. Reaching up, she wiped a few tears from her eyes. "I don't know why I'm being so sappy right now." Laughing, she took out her wand. "Here we are; let's try something else."

Moments later, the smell of wood smoke during a snow storm in winter filled the room. "I love this smell," Hermione said, smiling. "My father used to have a fire going in the fireplace all winter long, but my favourite moments were the ones that took place during snow storms. My Mum would make us all hot chocolate, and we'd sit in front of the fireplace all bundled up. Usually, my Mum and Dad would read to me."

"What type of things did they read?" Oliver inquired, enjoying the look of happiness on his wife's face. Her smile was contagious, and he found himself grinning like an idiot as well.

"Shakespeare," Hermione replied with a laugh. "My parents really love his works."

Oliver burst out laughing. "Is that why they gave us a complete set of his works as a wedding gift?"

Hermione nodded. "I think they hope we'll find inspiration for names of our future children."

The two of them laughed for a moment.

"All right, one more scent before we head out to dinner. We have reservations at Moreau's in Muggle London."

"My favourite!" Hermione exclaimed. "Oliver, you didn't have to do all this for me."

"I love you," Oliver said firmly. "And I want you to enjoy our anniversary."

She smiled, thanking Merlin that she had ended up with such a sweet husband. "Very well, Oliver. Pick the last scent."

Oliver put his wand to the machine and the scent of sweat and sunscreen filled the room.

"Summer?" Hermione inquired, sniffing the air. "Definitely smells like summer." It was another scent that she hadn't quite expected Oliver to choose.

"I love summer because I get to see you wear those sexy Muggle swimsuits." Oliver stared at her, a burning look in his eyes. "You're hot."

Hermione smiled, standing. "Well, if you like seeing me in those swimsuits, you'll really love what I got for tonight."

Oliver stood immediately, grasping Hermione's hips and pulling her flush against his body. His lips met hers in a hurried, passionate kiss while his hands caressed her sides.

They broke apart, each panting and wanting more. Oliver leant back down and pressed his lips to hers briefly. "Happy anniversary, Hermione."

"Happy anniversary, Oliver." She stepped away, reaching into their closet for her heels. "I'm just about ready, so then we can go eat."

"The sooner we eat, the sooner we'll be home." Oliver smirked. "I can't wait for my surprise."

Hermione laughed. "Well, your gift will definitely held set the mood. Jasmine and vanilla, perhaps? Or maybe something more adventurous… like orange and cinnamon?"

"Hurry up, witch," Oliver growled, his voice low and husky. "I've got an appetite for something delicious."

She let out a squeal of delight as Oliver tackled her onto the bed. His lips kissed hers hungrily as he made quick work of removing her clothes.

Hermione had a feeling that they wouldn't be making their dinner reservations.

* * *

Two weeks later, Oliver came home and found their flat smelled like a newborn baby. He grinned. It seemed that Hermione and he would be needing those Shakespeare plays sooner than they had thought.


End file.
